


I'm Almost Me Again, You're Almost You

by jeremystollemyheart



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, Tarot, discussion of multiverse theory, joly submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeremystollemyheart/pseuds/jeremystollemyheart
Summary: A party at Jehan’s place runs long. Joly never meant to be there in the first place, but then again he’ll do almost anything Bossuet asks him.There’s something borderline mystical about Jehan. Joly doesn’t believe in the mystical, but he’s going to try. Because he has questions.Or, Joly pines for Bossuet and Jehan reads tarot.Fic by jeremystollemyheart, art by TheMarchHair
Relationships: Joly & Jean Prouvaire, Joly/Bossuet Laigle
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31
Collections: Les Mis Big Bang: Quarantine Edition





	I'm Almost Me Again, You're Almost You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Les Mis Quarantine Big Bang. Fic by me, amazing art by TheMarchHair. Thanks for collaborating with me!

The party was winding down, and the night was growing long. Not necessarily in that order. 

It had started in a fit of sociability on Jehan’s part: an invitation to their friends for an evening of catching up, removed from the climate of the Musain. It had turned into hours and hours of amiable chattering, and by now everyone was comfortably curled into couches and armchairs and no one appeared to have plans of moving. 

Courfeyrac had his head on Enjolras’ lap, and their leader was winding willowy fingers through his dark curls absent-mindedly, so that by now he was more than half-dozing, utterly relaxed. Combeferre and Feuilly appeared to be engaged in some sort of friendly debate—and it really was friendly: both of them enjoyed combing through minutiae together, and Combeferre’s thorough and thoughtful style of debate was a pleasant contrast against Feuilly’s brutally honest opinions about—well about almost everything. At the end of the debate (whenever it wound down), they would both be able to shake hands and happily go about their evening. 

Bahorel and Grantaire seemed to have started taking bets on how long it would take a little black spider to climb the wall, and so far Bahorel appeared to be winning. 

Marius, a little wary of the spider but still interested, was watching from a distance. 

And that left, aside from Jehan who had gone to the kitchen in search of a midnight snack to offer their guests, and Joly and Bossuet, crammed pleasantly together on a small loveseat. Bossuet rested comfortable against Joly’s shoulder, and his head lolled so that the medical student’s thick, dark, hair almost tickled his nose. 

“We should have left an hour ago,” Joly mused, in the lazy sort of way that suggested that although he was well aware of this, he wasn’t planning on doing anything about it. Finals were approaching and this was the most relaxed he had been in weeks. 

“We all should have,” Bossuet agreed, not sounding especially worried either. He had been the one to insist Joly stop studying and come along in the first place, and if it seemed a little like he was purposefully trying to keep him away from the stress of study guides…well maybe he was. Either way, at this point it felt clear that no one was leaving. The party had lasted for too long and now over half of the group was sleepy or tipsy, and the ones who weren’t were simply too comfortable in this environment to bother going elsewhere.

Jehan was the sort of excellent host who inspired this kind of pleasant warmth and comfort. It was rare that a party at their place didn’t turn into a late night or an impromptu slumber party, so much so that they had already taken the trouble of setting out a collection of pillows and blankets in the middle of the floor for anyone who might want to utilize them. 

Joly and Bossuet already spent quiet evenings curled up beside each other. It was even more pleasant to do so around friends, without the stressful distraction of looming exams. Bossuet’s eyes slid closed as he adjusted his head. “Your shoulder’s nice.”

What precisely any of that meant, Joly felt a little unsure. And before the calm warmth of the situation had allowed him to verbalize the question in a way he always hesitated to do at home, Jehan returned with a carefully balanced tray of snack foods in one hand and a carefully balanced stack of games in the other. How they were keeping both upright was anyone’s guess, but they stepped lithely over discarded wine bottles and a handful of throw pillows to deposit the offerings on the coffee table. 

“I brought entertainment,” they declared cheerfully, “And snacks!”

The snacks garnered a more rousing response than the games at first, hands reaching out in excitement for the repast. But once the food had awakened them a bit, they began to show an interest in the entertainment. Combeferre and Feuilly set out to play Uno, which turned out to be much more fraught with peril than their debate had: Feuilly was particularly good. In the second round they were joined by both Bahorel and Grantaire: their spider had climbed into a crack in the wall and ended the race in a draw. 

Courfeyrac, hair askew courtesy of Enjolras’ absent-minded restyling, pulled Marius, also now spiderless, into a game of blackjack. Marius kept ending up pitifully high or pitifully low. That left Enjolras, Joly, and Bossuet unattached to a game, and apparently disinterested in the remaining offerings of Clue, Rook, and Scrabble. Enjolras stood, stretching like a cat. His posture had a tendency to become remarkably bad when he relaxed, astounding for someone normally so composed. His back and neck popped thrice when he twisted at the waist. Joly’s brow furrowed.

“You know, Enjolras,” he began, “sitting like that is awful for your back.”

Enjolras, as usual, looked mildly confused at the first moment of realization that he occupied a body that needed caring for. Talking to him about his health always gave him a look of having just woken up from a dream. 

“Of course,” he acquiesced, sounding as though he agreed but didn’t quite know what to do about it. 

“Do you want to play a card game?” Bossuet questioned, mostly addressing Joly, but also leaving the offer open to Enjolras. 

“I—I like just sitting here,” Joly confessed, and then felt a little silly for it. 

He could see that Jehan was a little pensive at their guests’ lack of enthusiasm for the entertainment. They considered this problem for a moment and then clapped their hands together once, and said, “If you’re not interested in playing a game, I could read tarot,” they grew suddenly shy at the suggestion and added, “I mean. If anyone wants.”

Joly, for his part, failed to see how tarot constituted a category other than “game,” but it was probably a credit to Jehan’s skill at it, or at least their magnetic qualities as a host, that most heads in the room, even ones currently occupied in other tasks, shot up with interest at the offer. 

It didn’t come as a surprise, not really. Jehan had a broad and eclectic interest in the metaphysical, and their apartment was scattered with crystals, candles, and incense holders to show for it. Most everyone in the room had gotten a reading at one point or another, either from generosity towards their friend’s interest, or actual curiosity regarding the future. 

Joly had always politely declined, feeling he had nothing to gain from the practice. 

“Only if anyone wants,” Jehan reiterated, seemingly a bit embarrassed that all eyes were on them. It was immediately clear that many did want, as card games were shuffled aside by half of the party: Grantaire grinned, broadly and lazily, and raised his hand, offering himself up. 

It made sense in a way. Grantaire’s natural skepticism, made him amazingly open to people’s ideas and beliefs, whether he himself believed in them or not. He was followed by Bahorel, Courfeyrac...even Bossuet sat up from his position against Joly’s shoulder and leaned forward with interest. He glanced back at Joly, as though expecting him to join. Joly shook his head, but smiled. Bossuet’s hand found his for a second, and he squeezed it reassuringly. 

“No thanks.” He said, “But you go ahead.”

There was no condescension or malice in the mandate. If asked, Joly would say that it was simply not his area of interest. He patted Bossuet on the arm, and his roommate (roommate?) patted him back before joining the group that was now steadily crowding around Jehan’s coffee table, interested. 

“Grantaire was first,” Jehan said, who had retrieved a series of tarot decks and was displaying them for all to see, asking, “Did you have one in mind?”

Grantaire peered at the offerings and at last selected a deck that was decorated in flowers and bones, both beautiful and macabre. Jehan glanced up at the room at large, and asked, “Enjolras? Combeferre? Feuilly? Joly? Marius? Do you want to join?”

Enjolras and Combeferre exchanged glances from across the room, considering. They had a peculiar ability to communicate as though telepathically. At last Enjolras shrugged and stood, and Combeferre followed suit.

Feuilly considered, hesitating before he was finally encouraged to join the fray by Bahorel, who seemed to find the whole thing great fun. 

That left Joly and Marius, both of whom shook their heads. Marius appeared too bleary-eyed to want to stay awake for the demonstration. Joly, wide awake, simply shook his head and held up a hand to defer the offer. 

“I’ll just watch from here,” he said, smiling indulgently. 

“Sure,” Jehan responded, returning the smile, unruffled by having their offer turned down. 

They started to shuffle the deck, and told Grantaire to pose a question he wanted answered. 

“Will I ever convince Enjolras to relax?” He asked after a moment’s consideration, a sly grin spreading across his face. 

A ripple of laughter came up from the group, along with Enjolras’ indignant but mostly un-offended, “I do relax!”

“Okay,” Jehan chuckled, continuing to shuffle the cards, and rephrasing the question to something a bit more neutral, “How can Enjolras stay relaxed?”

They shuffled the deck, continuing to chat as they did so, and then asked for silence and drew three cards. Joly craned his neck to see, but in the end couldn’t tell what the drawings represented. The names of the cards weren’t immediately helpful to him either, although Jehan took to interpreting them with ease. Enjolras seemed to be, at the very least, listening to Jehan’s advice. 

The reading was considered a rousing success, and the others clambered with curious questions, even those who had seemed hesitant earlier. Enjolras asked a question about The Future and clearly regarded it with such optimism that even the drawing of the Hanged Man (symbolic of martyrdom, according to Jehan) did nothing to dampen his spirits. Combeferre’s question had come with a philosophical weight that even Jehan seemed a bit overwhelmed by. Bossuet had joked that he wasn’t sure he needed to know about his future, a statement that apparently made Jehan all the more triumphant when they pulled The Tower REVERSED, as though disaster had been narrowly avoided. 

As each reading ended the crowd began to dwindle, those now secure in their future growing sleepy and dropping from the group. Courfeyrac joined the already sleeping Marius on one couch, once again using one of his friends as a pillow. Feuilly picked another armchair to doze off in, while Bahorel simply fell asleep on the floor with a pillow under his head, apparently unbothered. Bossuet joined Joly again on the loveseat and soon dozed off, his head drooping once again onto Joly’s shoulder. 

Enjolras didn’t sleep often. The group often joked that perhaps he could sleep standing up, most likely still orating without pause. This time he took the trouble to find another armchair and curl up in it. Maybe this was his way of relaxing. Combeferre made use of a sleeping bag, finding an out of the way corner to curl into after depositing his glasses safely on an end table. Grantaire found a nearly incomprehensible position on the couch with Courfeyrac and Marius, curling into them in a way that didn’t quite make sense. Everyone seemed perfectly content, so no one questioned it.

Jehan, apparently thrilled that their party had been a success, took a moment to shuffle their cards as though there was something nearly spiritual to it. They did it slowly, methodically, with the type of intentional love that they imbued all of their actions with. 

Joly watched, wide awake, intent and scientifically curious. Jehan didn’t seem to notice that he was awake or watching. They stood, stepping deftly over Bahorel. They spent a few moments gliding through the room, cat-like, picking up empty bottles, paper plates, and snack wrappers. The pile they managed to acquire was impressively precarious. They adjusted their grip once or twice, and then they headed to their kitchen and the trash can. A long skirt flowed around their ankles as they walked.

When they returned they surveyed the room and seemed satisfied with the current state of controlled chaos. They went around to end tables methodically blowing out candles, the room growing steadily dimmer until only a standing lamp cast the room in a warm glow. They made their way to it and clicked it off. 

Without meaning to, Joly spoke. 

“Hey, Jehan?”

There was a moment of silence, and then the lamp clicked back on. 

“Yes?” Jehan questioned, appearing a bit surprised but not put out.

Joly hesitated on the verge of saying, “nothing, goodnight,” but instead he questioned, hesitant, “How does it...work?”

They cocked their head to the side as though curious. “How does what work?”

“The—you know. The tarot thing. Is it like a magic trick? Are there special markings on the back?”

There was another long moment of Jehan studying him, and then they smiled and offered, “I’m happy to explain it to you, I mean as well as I can. It’s not magic, not like you’re thinking. If you want to come over here, I’ll show you.” 

For the first time it occurred to Joly that they were whispering harshly across the room at each other, trying not to wake their friends. He glanced at Bossuet, head tucked comfortably onto his shoulder. For a moment he thought to say that he was trapped there. But after some consideration of how to move his friend, he wriggled out of his spot, carefully ensuring that Bossuet’s head was now comfortably resting on the arm of the sofa. He didn’t stir, and Joly was glad that he was a heavy sleeper. 

In the end he proved to be less deft than Jehan. There was a scary moment where he very nearly tripped over Bahorel on his way to the coffee table where Jehan had returned and was already carefully laying out their decks again. 

“When you say magic,” they began as Joly seated himself on the floor across the table, “I think you’re thinking of magic tricks, like a magician who has a secret. Is that right?”

The question was delivered with such a cheerful candor that it made Joly feel in some way embarrassed. He nodded, blushing a little. 

“And if not that,” Jehan continued, “You’re thinking of it as a way to tell the future. I mean, to tell the future in a concrete and unchangeable way. Like. Next Thursday you will come into unexpected money. That kind of thing.”

His feeling of embarrassment was replaced by one of confusion, and one brief flash of irritation at his attitude being understood so thoroughly. “Isn’t that what it is?”

Jehan laughed. They had a way of laughing that made it clear that you weren’t being laughed at. 

“It’s not exactly like that, but it’s a very common perception. In movies tarot is always treated as a crystal clear form of fortune telling, but I don’t like to think of it that way.”

“Okay,” Joly said, growing both more curious and skeptical by the second.

“I choose to think of tarot as a form of guidance. It’s not there to tell my future, it’s there to help me look at my options and suggest ways I might want to pursue them—or not pursue them. Does that make sense?”

Joly considered this for a long moment before smiling apologetically and admitting, “Not really, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” they assured him. They paused to consider. “Did you watch me giving the others readings?”

“Yes. Bossuet got the um. The Tower?”

“Reversed,” Jehan added, just as triumphant as before. Joly still didn’t know what that meant. “Okay, good. Think of it like this, maybe. I have no control over which cards are drawn. I just interpret them, as best I can. That means looking at the meaning of the card, my understanding of the person whose reading I am doing, even the symbolism of the artwork. It’s very personal. In some ways, a reading may reflect more about how you solve problems and interpret your concerns than about the cards. There’s no one perfectly concrete meaning.”

“You mean there’s nothing magical about the cards themselves,” Joly surmised, unsure if that was better or worse than he had originally thought. 

“I—“ Jehan paused and considered this for a long moment. “I don’t want to deny the inherent magic in anything,” they said at last, slowly and carefully, “But nothing can completely predict the future. Not even tarot cards. Not even me.”

That statement hung in the air, allowing Joly to draw his own conclusions about Jehan and the gentle air of mysticism that always seemed to hang around them. 

“Would you like a reading now that I’ve explained it a bit more?” Jehan offered. Joly balked a little. 

“Weren’t you about to go to sleep?” He asked, half concerned and half searching for a way out.

“It’s okay to say no,” Jehan promised, “But you wouldn’t be keeping me awake, if that’s worrying you.”

Joly hesitated. 

“Is there a deck you like? One in particular that speaks to you?”

After a moment of consideration, Joly pointed to one decorated in corvids. 

“I like that one,” Jehan agreed in the patient tone of someone guiding a child through a new task. They grabbed the deck and began to sift through the cards, shuffling them with deft fingers. “I’ll just shuffle for a while,” they said at last, “If you decide you want to ask a question we’ll be ready. If not, no harm no foul.”

The silence proved deafening; it made Joly squirm. It wasn’t true silence. It was the half-dark partial silence of sleeping people. Bossuet snored softly, a familiar sound to him. 

“Will-uh-will I do well on finals?” Joly blurted out at last.

Jehan beamed. 

“Let’s focus a little less on yes or no questions and a little more on actions you can take to succeed. I’m going to do a situation, action, and outcome spread.”

“I don’t know what that means.” 

“It means that I draw three cards. The first represents the situation you have questions about, the second is an action you can take in response, and the third is a potential outcome if you do.”

Joly bit his lip in consideration, feeling a wave of trepidation. If he was being honest, he preferred not to think too hard about how his actions impacted the future. He did that enough already, completely unprompted. “Okay,” he said at last, nodding. 

“Do you want to pick the cards, or should I do it?”

“Does it matter?”

“I don’t think so. I just wanted to offer. I’ll give you as much or as little control as you would like.”

“You do it,” he said at last, not wanting any more responsibility than necessary. 

“Okay.” 

Jehan drew a trio of cards, keeping them face down. One by one they turned them over. 

“Okay. It looks like we have the Ace of Wands. Which normally represents passion and inspiration. But in this case it’s reversed. That means I drew the card upside down, which changes the meaning. When it’s reversed, the Ace of Wands means—“ they pulled a face that was half apologetic, which Joly assumed was not ideal.

“What?”

“I just want you to keep in mind that this is the situation. This is where you are right now. The whole point of the tarot spread is to see where you can end up if you take action.”

“Jehan…”

“Okay, okay. So when you reverse it, the Ace of Wands means that you’re struggling to stay inspired. You’re worn down by life, maybe even by something you’ve always been passionate about. I don’t know how that applies to you, exactly. But I think everyone has something in their life that they might find a little overwhelming.”

Joly sat back, working to keep his face neutral. He could have said that he was inspired by his work, but that he was exhausted too. That he had been pushing himself, and he knew it. Bossuet knew it. He had all but forced Joly to the party in the first place, and been more than delighted when he had finally been able to relax a bit. Probably even Jehan had noticed. Maybe they had more control over the cards then they claimed, and that wasn’t fair. 

“Okay,” he said at last, shrugging limply in lieu of another response. 

“Now let’s look at the action. Remember, this is something you can do in response to your current situation. It looks like I drew Strength.”

This time Jehan looked a little relieved, as though they had a genuine concern that this activity was quickly going off the rails.

“Okay,” they brushed a strand of hair out of their eyes before beginning their explanation, laying the card face up so Joly could see it, “I know strength seems self-explanatory. And it is, in a way. Strength is about power. But it’s also about compassion and balance. I think what this is saying,” and here they looked tremendously sympathetic, a sure sign that they did know more than they allowed to show, “is that you need to create room to be kinder to yourself. You push yourself very hard, Joly. And you’re very good at what you do. But I know it doesn’t always come easily for you. And that’s okay. But you need to have the kind of compassion towards yourself that you have towards others. Isn’t compassion what made you go to med school in the first place?” 

They watched him, waiting to see if he would respond. At last he nodded and said, “Yeah,” in a hoarse whisper that did not maintain the stoic aura he had aimed for earlier.

One of the dangers of being friends with Jehan was their way of knowing things that you needed to hear, and things that you didn’t want to hear, and that those were often the same things. 

“What’s the last card?” Joly questioned, making it clear that this wasn’t something he wanted to discuss further at the moment.

Jehan turned the card over. “The Three of Wands. This one means that you’re ready to put your plans into action. You’re dedicated and ready to pursue the future. You’re ready to grow. So what I think that means for you is that if you give yourself the kindness and compassion that you need, and that you deserve, then you’re on the right track. You haven’t lost your passion or your drive. You haven’t lost your purpose. You just need to be gentle with yourself for a while in order to keep going.”

Joly sat back, impressed but a bit nervous about the whole thing. He felt somehow had, as though he had been tricked into something, and it miffed him a little. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Jehan, he did. Implicitly. But he didn’t like feeling quite so known. 

“What if you had drawn another card?” He challenged, grappling for some sort of counter argument. Jehan’s brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that I don’t understand. I mean. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not—it’s not fate or anything like that. Sure, those are the cards you drew. But what if you drew—“ he hesitated, trying to consider what the name of one of the cards might be, “—Empress of Cups.”

Jehan couldn’t suppress a laugh, and Joly scowled just a little.

“I’m not laughing at you,” they assured him. “There’s nothing wrong with your question, it makes perfect sense. I guess the way I see it is, well, I did draw these cards. Maybe there’s a universe where I drew others, but we aren’t in it. So this is what you needed to hear at the moment.”

Joly considered, crossing his arms. 

“And you don’t have to believe it,” Jehan added, not at all maliciously, “It’s okay if you don’t. We all have our mythologies, the things we believe in.”

“I don’t!” 

“You might not believe in things you consider magic,” they responded, “but it doesn’t mean you don’t believe in anything. It’s okay if tarot isn’t one of the things you believe in. But it’s also okay to open your mind up. Doing this doesn’t mean you believe your own private mythologies any less. But it’s worthwhile experimenting, don’t you think? Everything happens for a reason. I like to think you were supposed to be here tonight.”

“It wasn’t fate or the universe. It was Bossuet. He had to drag me out,” he confessed, “I was planning on staying in and studying.”

“You see? That’s what I mean about choosing to be kind to yourself. You chose to break out of your norm, and now you have the chance to grow. Would you like to try again? I think maybe you’re a little uncomfortable feeling like I’m putting a magnifying glass on your life. We can look at something a bit more outward focused. Maybe the group as a whole? Everyone here,” They gestured to the room of sleeping people at large, “And maybe—I don’t know. Maybe this will help you understand how it works.”

”Sure,” Joly agreed, starting to wish he had never raised his question to Jehan in the first place.

“I’ll do another reading. Let’s ask...let’s ask about what we’re all doing here. I mean. Not here, in this room. Let’s look at what purpose we have in all being together.”

“Is that the kind of thing you can learn from a tarot deck?”

“It’s certainly something we can try,” Jehan said, grinning gamely. They began to reshuffle, explaining, “There’s a past, present, and future spread, let’s try that this time instead of situation, action, and outcome.”

They drew three cards as they spoke, this time not stopping to explain much about the process as they turned them over. 

“Okay, it looks like the first card is Death.”

“Death?” Joly clarified, sputtering in incredulity. “You drew the Death card?”

“Yes,” Jehan smiled, a little knowing.

“And that doesn’t bother you? That doesn’t scare you?”

“It’s the past card,” they said, shrugging, “so if it’s referring to a literal death, there isn’t much I can do about it. But the idea of the Death card heralding the end of life isn’t—I mean, it’s more of a horror movie thing. Death really just means the end of one cycle, the beginning of another. In a way, death is nothing but the beginning of rebirth. So I’m going to assume this means the beginning of a cycle, not the end.”

“That’s very zen,” Joly said, wondering if the joke would land, “Very circle of life.”

“Right!” Jehan breezed directly past it, “Now the present card is,” they turned it, “Three of Cups. That means that we are surrounded by a group of friends. We’re experiencing life in a fundamentally social way right now.”

The group around them slept on, the room filled with the sound of gentle breathing, the feeling of camaraderie.

“I think that’s pretty self-explanatory, don’t you?” Jehan asked, smiling fondly around the room, “So we’ll move on to the future, unless you have any questions.”

“Not really,” Joly admitted. He watched them turn over the last card. 

“So this last one, it’s The Five of Pentacles, but it’s reversed.”

Joly wasn’t sure exactly what reversing did, but last time it had been nothing good, so he cringed a little. 

“And this card in this position means,” Jehan continued, not noticing, “That we have found resources that we lacked, and that our time of wanting is coming to a close.”

Oh, that didn’t seem so bad.

“When you put all of these together, I think the best explanation of the meaning is that we started this cycle of our lives lacking something important. We found each other and discovered a group of friends, we established a social circle. That’s where we are now, so that in the future, and I like to think the future is always very near, in the future we can find those things we were lacking in our solo existences in each other.”

This idea was positively utopic, and Joly still didn’t understand how these cards worked. But he felt fairly sure that if anyone could make these randomized cards deliver this sort of message, they could. 

“I can only speak for myself,” they added, “And perhaps my own experiences may have impacted this reading. But for me it couldn’t be more true. Finding all of you has been so wonderful.”

All of them, including him. This might have been the longest private discussion he had ever had with Jehan, and the knowledge that he might have in some small way influenced their life for the better made him smile. 

“You’re right. I needed to find these people. I didn’t know it at the time. I mean, I thought maybe one day you all could become my friends, important to me, but I didn’t know how much I needed this group specifically. And it’s not—I mean. I think you know I don’t really believe in magic. All of us meeting—it’s not magic. But it’s something close.” 

Jehan grinned from ear to ear. “I’m glad we picked the same universe,” they said, “All of us.”

That was the second time Jehan had mentioned the universe. 

“I have a question for you,” Joly said, “And maybe for the-uh-tarot too.”

“Go ahead.”

“What did you mean about the universe where you drew those cards?”

“Hm?”

“You said that in this universe you drew the Ace of whatever backwards—“

“Ace of Cups reversed.”

“Right. But you said that there’s also a universe where you didn’t. Are you talking about theoretical physics? Like Stephen Hawking?”

“Something like that,” Jehan nodded, “Although I don’t really understand theoretical physics. Combeferre tried to explain it to me once. I got a little hung up on the cat.” 

“Schrodinger’s,” he said reflexively. 

“Yes! But I think it’s sort of the same thing. We’re living in one universe, but I believe there are others. I like to think this is the best one.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well,” Jehan drew the word out slowly, taking time to consider their stance before responding, “This is the one where we all know each other. I think that counts for something, don’t you?”

“I never really thought about a universe where we don’t all know each other,” Joly admitted, squirming a little at the thought. Jehan loved to follow these kinds of tangents and rabbit holes, but Joly found that when he followed them, he tended to go too far, “It’s kind of—scary?”

“I wouldn’t want to be in a universe without all of you,” Jehan agreed, “A universe where we all chose different schools or some of us never went at all. Or a universe where we all met, but we were like different people. You know there’s probably a universe where you were a theatre major?”

Joly laughed, “And a universe where you studied business.”

“Where I wore suits every day?”

“In all kinds of colors.”

This made Jehan laugh out loud. In the semi-darkness, someone shifted and mumbled in their sleep. It might have been Courfeyrac. 

“It’s not just big things,” Jehan said, after they had waited in tense silence for a few minutes to see if anyone had awakened, “There are little things. The universe where you never came to this party.”

“The one where Bossuet never made me come,” Joly agreed, and then, softer, added, “The one where I never met him.”

“How is that—” Jehan gestured, Into the air as though trying to find the rest of the question, delicate bangle bracelets on their wrists twinkling like a wind chime, “—going,” they finished at last. 

Joly glanced at them, almost hawklike, “What do you mean?” The feeling of being read too easily came back full force, and without thinking he scooted a couple of inches away from the coffee table. 

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Jehan apologized quickly, flustered by the response, “Was I not supposed to bring it up?”

The question was not “Bring what up?” Because the meaning of Jehan’s words hung in the air, thick and heavy. Apparently, there was no point in arguing against it or inventing false pretense. They were astute in the way that others weren’t. Maybe only they had noticed. So instead, Joly questioned, keeping his tone as neutral as possible, “How obvious is it?”

“Well,” Jehan hesitated, drawing the word out long again so that his drawl caught it and turned it into a two syllable word, “Marius asked the other day.”

Joly groaned, dropping his head into his hands. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think anyone thought it was a secret.”

“Except maybe Bossuet,” Joly said, laughing without much mirth. 

“Do you really think it’s a secret to him,” Jehan questioned, using that soft touch voice they tended to drop in and out of easily, “Or do you think maybe he’s just as nervous about it as you are?”

“Well he’s not exactly shy,” Joly argued. If he was being honest, he would rather think of Bossuet as oblivious than silent.

“Maybe he thinks you would rather make the first move. Let things go at your own pace,” and then, a little timorous as well, they added, “And if you have any questions, I could always…” they gestured in a fluid movement to the tarot deck, “I mean I understand if you would prefer—“

“Ah, no,” Joly said, and then realized Jehan took that as a refusal, “I mean no, you don’t have to talk me into—I mean,” he paused, took a deep breath, and smiled a crooked, desperate sort of smile, “What’s the worst that can happen?” 

“Right,” Jehan agreed. “Same deck? All decks have their own, ah, personality if you will. So you might get a different sort of reading with a different one. And I have others, these are just some personal favorites.”

“No, you can stick with the same one.”

“Okay,” Jehan started to shuffle again, “Anything specific you would like to ask?”

“I want,” Joly considered for a long moment, “I want to ask what would happen if I were to—you know. If I asked…” he trailed off with a rictus grin and a slightly embarrassed shrug. 

“Sure,” Jehan agreed, “Want me to pick the cards again?”

“Yes, please.”

Content that they were finished shuffling, Jehan again went through the process of drawing three cards and placing them face down on the table. “Just like before,” they explained, “Situation, action, outcome.”

They turned the card over. 

“Okay so the first card is The World, and it’s reversed again.”

“Is one card always reversed?” Joly questioned, peering at it with curiosity. 

“No, not necessarily. You could get no reversed cards, you could get all reversed cards. You landed somewhere in the middle, it seems.”

“And reversals are...they’re bad,” he guessed, worrying at his lip with his teeth.

“Reversals are...reversals. They’re not inherently bad, they just reverse the meaning of each card. For instance when you draw The Tower reversed, it means AVOIDING disaster, rather than walking into it. That was one of Bossuet’s earlier, remember? Now The World, reversed, it means you’ve got something unfinished in your life. You’re on the right path, but there’s a missing piece, and you need to look at what that piece might be in order to find fulfillment.”

“Okay,” Joly approached with caution, crossing his arms. He was determined not to blurt out the question on the tip of his tongue—if Jehan was making these up to make him feel better. 

“Which I would say is a fair assessment of your situation, wouldn’t you?”

“Sure. Yes.”

“And the second card,” Jehan flipped it, “This one is the Three of Cups. It represents the bringing together of two things into one, sort of. Like a partnership, or two opposite forces combining with each other.”

“This is very specific, Jehan. Are you sure it isn’t magic? Or a card trick?”

“Cross my heart,” said Jehan, and did. Their word was good, and Joly knew that and nodded.

“So in this case your action seems obvious. You’re supposed to bite the bullet and ask him.”

“Let’s hear the outcome before I do,” Joly suggested, smirking a little. This made Jehan clap their hands together quietly, thrilled to see Joly choosing at last to get in on the spirit of the activity. 

“Okay the last card—“ they struggled to find purchase on the smooth surface this time, but finally managed to get it turned. They studied it for a moment, shielding it from Joly’s view. 

“What is it?” He craned his neck to see. 

“Ah,” Jehan began, their face cracking in half into a grin and they placed their head in their free hand for a second, laughing as they did, “Would you believe me if I said The Lovers?”

Joly’s cheeks flushed red and hot, and he felt a wave of indignance, followed by both delight and incredulity in equal measure. 

“Let me see that!” He half scrambled over the coffee table in an attempt to see the card, disrupting the unused decks. Jehan surrendered the card, laughing as Joly examined it as carefully as though he expected it to be a trick, or for there to be something wrong with it. At last he questioned, “The Lovers as in, you know, _The Lovers_?”

“The card can represent something a little more abstract, depending on context and interpretation, but it also represents a physical and emotional connection between two people. One with a lot of trust and faith in each other. I don’t think we necessarily need a lot of abstract interpretation for that one, Joly.”

“And this is the—the what card?”

“Outcome?” Jehan supplied, trying to guess the meaning of his question.

“That one,” at last Joly seemed satisfied and set the card aside. “So this is the—the future? My future?”

“Again, think of it more as a type of guidance. But it is a potential outcome that you can use to direct your actions. And if you want my opinion, not as a tarot reader but as your friend, I think you should.”

Joly glanced over his shoulder where Bossuet slept on, undisturbed. He was a heavy sleeper compared to Joly, who awoke at the slightest sound, but he tossed and turned more. This Joly knew from the state of his blankets in the morning. He thought that maybe he could learn to handle the tossing, the disturbed blankets.

He thought he could learn to handle almost anything.

“I think—“ he pursed his lips, and then smiled a little, “I think you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Jehan grinned and offered, “Well why don’t you sleep on it? It’s late.”

That was generous. Late had passed a while back, it had nearly cycled back around to early.

“Yeah,” Joly agreed, and yawned. 

“You need a sleeping bag or anything?”

There was still room on the loveseat. Bossuet had curled up fairly small on one side.

“No, I think I’m okay. Thank you.”

“Absolutely. If you change my mind, let me know,” Jehan shuffled the deck a few more times, before putting it away. 

“Hey,” Joly added, “Thanks for taking the time to show me the whole—thing.”

“Thank you for having an open mind,” Jehan responded with sincerity, “I appreciate it. I know it’s not always easy for anyone to do that. I hope it gave you some guidance.”

“It did. At least, it gave me a lot to consider. After all, this might be the only universe we get to share.”

“It might be,” Jehan agreed, “And that’s not a privilege to take lightly, if you ask me. Maybe we don’t always get to live in the universe in the same time and place with the person we love.”

The person we love. It felt like a huge statement, there in the half-dark, with all of their friends asleep around them, with something of magic hanging in the air. 

Jehan had their own bedroom, but instead they took the armchair they had been on for most of the evening, plucking a blanket and a pillow from the pile on the floor and making something of a nest. Joly watched them perform bedtime like a ritual, taking the time to braid fine, nearly waist-length hair out of the way before curling up and falling to sleep peacefully. 

“Goodnight,” Joly repeated, which only earned him a sleepy murmur in reply. He stood, stretched, and headed back over to the small sofa where Bossuet had never once awakened. There was a brief moment of confusion as he found a way to curl comfortably into the small space without causing a disturbance. In the end they mostly just switched places, so that when he finally fell asleep his head was resting on Bossuet’s shoulder instead of the other way around. 

He had dreams that were not exactly nightmares, but not exactly anything else. 

They were of worlds, some of them full of people and others empty and deserted, and in all of them Joly was some sort of lonely. Sometimes lost in a crowd, sometimes the figure in a vast wasteland. 

He awoke with a start, a beam of early morning sunlight streaming directly into his eyes, and gave a little shout. Bossuet shifted from under his head, and he groaned, beginning to sit up and then finding a person sized weight on top of him. His expression was one of brief confusion. 

“Joly?” He mumbled, still slurring his words from sleepiness, “How did we—?”

“I—“ he considered, thought about lying, and didn’t, “I couldn’t sleep, so Jehan and I talked for a while. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Ah,” Bossuet said around an enormous yawn, “Okay. Did you have a good talk?”

Jehan, as well as the others, were all still asleep. 

“Yeah,” he said, smiling, “Yeah we did. It actually—“ he huffed out a sigh and tried to think of what to say. He had never imagined this scene playing out like this, in this place. And he had imagined this scene many times. 

“It made me—“

“It made you what?” Bossuet looked as though he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or concerned. But the question, the real question, kept dying on his lips, so at last Joly’s hand found Bossuet’s and tangled their fingers together. He felt Bossuet’s hand stiffen and then soften in his. 

“It made me glad we get to share this world. It made me glad that this is the universe we picked.”

It was a part of who Bossuet was that he didn’t question this statement instantly. He didn’t ask for a run down of the other universes, or protest the nature of reality. He just closed his hand—larger, with blunt fingers—around Joly’s and said, “I’m glad too. I’m glad you came to the party with me. I never actually—you know, thanked you for that.”

“You don’t have to. I mean. Thank you for asking me. Well, making me.”

Bossuet glanced around. “No one’s awake yet,” he said, “We could go back to sleep. It’s so early,” he yawned again. 

“We could,” Joly agreed, curling back into Bossuet’s side. He had only slept for a couple of hours, if he had to guess. This quiet morning felt fragile, beautiful. And he was more comfortable than he had been in a long time. 

“What other universes are there?” Bossuet asked at last, apparently unable to hold in the question. Joly smiled sleepily, running a thumb lazily over the back of Bossuet’s hand.

“Worse ones,” was all he said by way of explanation, “Don’t worry about those.”

And he dozed back off without another word, in the best possible universe he could imagine. 


End file.
